It starts with the end of the world. And ends with something…unexpected.
On one hand a powerful social commentary, and an instinctual study of male love on the other, Akira is worth watching for any one of a hundred reasons.
As a film, it’s sublime: set in a future that’s not so very far away, in a sprawling, half-rotten metropolis, Akira follows Two Dumb Kids (Tetsuo and Kaneda) as they get caught up in something neither of them fully understands, but which will change them forever.
It’s less clichéd than it sounds.
Adapted from his own manga, Otomo has brought his story to life in the most beautiful, ugly way. His direction is perfect, managing to condense a 2200-page comic into a two-hour film.
The animation is of supreme quality. There are crowd scenes in Akira that look like they were taken from real life. There are no shortcuts: each character looks and moves like an individual. Characters run a full emotional gamut, and both animation and smart voice acting bring the cast to life.
The animators must have the souls of dancers: there’s a powerfully balletic quality to the film, from billowing smoke to the horrorshow transformation of a room full of toys into something out of a child’s nightmare. All the while, the story – the important thing – rolls on smoothly. There’s no showing off of tools or techniques here. Every frame of the story is packed with visual information.
The music uses traditional Japanese instruments and voice in novel ways, to evoke feelings of otherworldliness in the film. This almost certainly enhances the experience for a western audience, through its unfamiliarity with the musical style.
Akira is almost an exercise in opposites: chase scenes through ruined streets that let you feel the wind against your face, and vertiginous action sequences that would make a strong man weep sit comfortably with moments of utter peace and understanding. Joy and sorrow in equal measure.
At the heart of the story is a simple theme: renewal. Most of the cast, from the mad priest with the kinky afro, to the no-nonsense soldier, understand on some basic level that the world cannot stay still for long, without stagnating. Tetsuo and Kaneda start off as a symptom of this bloated, aimless society, and end up as unlikely saviours – a bit like Ant and Dec blowing up the Death Star.
On one level, this is the film that fans of the Terminator wish they had seen first. It would seem to have it all: action, impossible odds, and bullets by the bucketful.
But it’s also a very smart film, with an awful lot to say, both about society, and how it should never rest on its laurels – or ever consider itself a finished work – and about cinema itself. Akira is a sophisticated learning tool, for both animated and live-action work.
However, more important than any of those things, Akira is a story about friendship. About Platonic love. About being able to do the unthinkable, in order to save someone you love – even if they don’t want you to.
That’s what makes this film unmissable.
That’s what makes this story unforgettable.
Review text (C) Matthew Craig
Originally published in the pop culture magazine Robot Fist